Thursday, 15 September 2011


No, not me parenting (although my lumpy little ovaries are screaming at the to START, RIGHT NOW DAMNIT - they're just not sensible) but my father. Parenting me. It's bloody odd, I'm telling you. I've been an independant wee birdie for nearly two years now, able to do what I want, when I want (or almost, anyway. See:homeless.) Not any more, now I have somebody enforcing rulesand restrictions, the most frustrating of which is that I am no longer free to roam the house as I please in the wee small hours. The moment Dekus the Dad lays his head down to rest for the night an electronics ban comes into play. It's like living in the dark ages, I'm tellin' ya.

It does have its upsides, this curfew, (aside from lowering DtD's electric bill) which is that I am now forced to do something productive with my nights, like reading and writing, honing my literary skills. Which can only be a good thing, let's face it, because it is an area in which I am sorely lacking right now. The major downside is that in his waking hours, Dekus the Dad likes to control both the television and his laptop, at the same time. How exactly does one fully dedicate oneself to fighting off hoardes of zombies when one is also utterly engrossed in back-to-back episodes of M*A*S*H*?

Apparently this is his way of weaning me off of hours of reading blogs, playing The Sims 3 (it's an addiction, I say) and day time television and getting me to clean his house while he's at work. Tough chance, Dekus, what you fail to realise is that whilst you are working, I have free reign of your home and electric appliances.*

Honestly though, I'm not finding it too bad. I realise that I'm a lucky little button to even have these privelages in the first place, some people aren't so lucky. I know, for a long time I was one of them. I'm going to miss watching terrible films before bed though, I'll admit that in a heart beat.

Some bloggers write about their husbands, some write about their children. Me? I write about my dad.

*I'm not that bad, honest. I walk his dog and do the dishes. I just refuse to use the vacuum cleaner. I have my reasons.

Monday, 12 September 2011

Such Is Life

I was going to update earlier, but I figured 'Nah, I'll leave it until tonight. Something interesting might happen.' I was right too, three hours later I got myself an email from somebody asking me to review their product. If you ask me, that means I'm moving up in the world of blogging. To my dismay I had to decline with a polite "Unfortunately I am not currently American." Still, that's progress.

Life's good, ain't it? I'm warm and comfortable. I walk the streets and am flooded with memories of my childhood, every corner, garden and insignificant shrub is brimming with nostalgia, it's a glorious feeling. Hot and warm and fuzzy and beautiful. I'm no longer walking around with my eyes to the ground, not caring enough about my surroundings to take in their wonder. Everything is new and old and exciting and breath taking.

Me and my dad have been doing some quality father-daughter bonding since I moved over. Not sitting around reminiscing, or discussing life, love and politics. No, that's just not how our relationship works. Instead we have been getting to know each other all over again through the medium of Facebook, which 65-year-old Dekus the Dad is more obsessed with than even I am. So we sit here in the livingroom, silent in each others' presence, sending each other gifts on Zombie Lane. I like to think that this is not only bringing us closer together but also preparing us for the impending zombie apocalypse (although that's highly unlikely. When the dead walk the Earth I'm quite sure they will be able to do a whole lot more damage than merely knocking us all out for a couple of moments.) Sometimes, when the mood strikes, Dekus the Dad will also take it upon himself to read passages from his Wall aloud, filling me in on all the goings on of our family, "Oh, says here that your cousin is off on Holiday next March and your Aunt may or may not have been turned into a pot of Tomato soup." I think we're stumbling into an odd little routine, it's quite pleasing really.
Dekus the Dad - he also might be Santa Claus.

I haven't done much. Honestly. I did go visit some cars on Friday. There were also people, but mostly cars.
Yes, three Minis. Aren't I a lucky one? These could have been in traffic light formation but I declared "NO!" because people should not indulge my bizzarre whims, it's unhealthy and could give me a large ego.

OHMYGOD you know, I totally forgot to tell you something. The day before I left Belfast I went for lunch with the delightful Jonathan and GUESSWHATGUESSWHAT. My good friends the Hare Krisnas must have known I was departing from the glorious city so they threw me a little going away party.
Honestly, they're just so thoughtful.

YOU KNOW WHAT ALSO HAPPENED!? I met a Tiger. A real one. Who wasn't in a zoo.
My life is interesting.

Sorry that this post was so picture-heavy, it's the first opportunity I've had.

Wednesday, 7 September 2011

I Made It

I have a home, for the first time in over a year I have a place where I don't have to live in fear of stepping out of line, pissing off my co-habitants and finding my ass out on the street. Best part of it all? I get to eat. Every day. Multiple times. Bless you, Dekus the Dad, for putting up with me and my shit and feeding me and my dirty nicotine and caffiene addictions.

I'm glad it's all finally happened. If I'm honest, Belfast was like a prison for me, I felt stifled and unable to progress. Homelessness gets you into a bit of a Catch 22 type situation; can't get a job until you have a home, can't have a home until you get a job. But it's all over now, I'm free to grow and expand my horizons, I can finally see possibilities for myself. I'm stretching out my cramping soul and it feels damn good.

Living here is still pretty surreal, I must say, I can't quite grasp that I'm here and this is my forever home now. even after ten days here I occasionally find myself thinking about "When I go home". Stop it, Brain, you are home, in a place where people love you and will look after you.

So what have I done since I got here? Not much, not much at all. Three days spent with friends and seven days spent arsing around, taking advantage of all my new home has to offer: TV, food, internet, a cuddly dog and nostalgia by the bucketload. Now I just have to go about getting my finances in order, paying my gigantic phone bill and registering with a doctor.

It all sounds so simple when you just list it like that.

Monday, 5 September 2011

Writer's Blockage

So I haven't updated in quite a while, eh? This would probably be because I have been all over the place in body and mind. I finally got home to Chester a week ago (hurrah!) and it's been one fiasco after the other. I'm still adjusting and I'm not entirely sure what to make of anything yet. Due to this I have been struck by a destructive case of writer's block (I use that phrase loosely, for I am no writer). I'll tell you all about it some other time, but for now I leave you with this anecdote.

Setting: Living room
Characters: Robyn, Adam (brother) and Dekus the Dad.
Dekus the Dad: I bet your mum's sorry she died when she did now that David Essex is on Eastenders.

This is my life now.

Friday, 19 August 2011

Is There A Doctor In The House?

I'm just back from discussing my weird back problems with a doctor again, because right now all I want to do is claw at my shoulder and gauge out all the tendons, muscles and nerves because it feels like I have an itch way down deep in the flesh and it's not fun. It's worse than pain.

Anyways, the trip to the doctor was pretty uneventful, apart from her giving me a letter to pass on to whoever is unlucky enough to end up as my doctor in Chester. This is that letter:
I note my findings on previous imaging. No evidence of bony cervical rib formation. The appearances of the right first and second ribs are felt secondary to an underlying cervical thoracic scoliotic deformity convex to the left, the apex of which is at TI. Given the presentation referral to Orthopeadics could be considered."
WTF does this mean? I can gather that I don't have cervical ribs, I'm deformed(!!) and need to go see some Orthopeadics. I suck at doctor lingo, so anything else is beyond me. Please help.

The doctor did say I may require surgery.

Thursday, 18 August 2011

The Reason is You

I said in my first post that I started blogging to get all my 'big thoughts' out (something I'm yet to accomplish) and I stand by that, but I have another reason now as well. I was almost giving up, I had lost my enthusiasm. That is, until I discovered The Bloggess and the beautiful sense of community surrounding her blog.

I was reading through some of her old posts (ok all of them - I was hooked) when I came to the James Garfield Christmas Miracle. I cried, honestly. To think that all these strangers came together to give each other hope, support and assistance. It was beautiful and it moved me. I want to be a part of something like that, to belong to such a fantastic network of people. To be there with them through their laughter and joy, sorrow and heartache, and to assist them whenever and how ever I can.

Basically what I'm trying to say is hello blogosphere! I'm here for the long haul and I hope you'll have me.

Wednesday, 17 August 2011

Cheerio Belfast

Today I found out that my ID has been posted out and will arrive within the next week. I was surprised that rather than relieved I felt a surge of sadness at leaving this place. I wanted to say goodbye to the place that has been home to me for the last seven years. It was this city and its people that helped to shape me into the confused little person I am today.

I took the scenic route, through culture filled alleys crammed with quirky bars and whimsical street art, to my favourite spot in Belfast; it's a wall set off the main road outside a gay bar and just round the corner from the Circus School. I love it because the surrounding area is full of memories for me. From here I can see the Albert Clock and the Royal Mail building, which to many people would seem like strange markers but to me they are symbolic buildings around which many of my teenage years revolved. I spent many a drunken afternoon running through the fountains by the Albert Clock and the immense, mirrored facade of the Royal Mail was on the receiving end of many long, admiring gazes while I was high as a kite.

I walked through subways that made me heady with memories, flashbacks from a booze-filled, carefree time. It made me think of happy times with friends I have loved and who I have grown away from. Moving from here is going to be hard, some of the happiest days of my life have been spent wandering through this city, but I now realise that there is very little left here for me. Today I wandered these streets alone. thete

Monday, 15 August 2011

Dear Stephen Merchant

I saw you on Chatty Man with Alan Carr and you said that you are looking for a woman. Is this true? If so I would like to apply for the position Post-haste. I know that you said small women were problematic, and compared to you I am the size of a pea, but I think you are simply unaware of the benefits of having a pixie for a girlfriend, for instance
-We small folk are very good at being the 'little spoon'.
-My head makes for a very good arm rest.
-It doesn't take a lot to get me drunk so I'm a cheap date.

The first time I saw you I kinda knew we were meant to be together, and when I saw you on Chatty Man it only proved that I was correct. Then I was tweeting about it and some guy said he would totally pay to watch us get it on so not only is our love *beautiful* it is also *marketable*.

Lots of love,
                 Robyn xox

P.S. If you could please get back to me on this by October. It's my cousin's wedding and it would be really good if you could make it.

P.P.S. To show you how good we look together I am attaching a mock-up of us that my friend Patrick made. Obviously I am standing on a dwarf's shoulders to give myself a boost because in reality there is no way my head is reaching your shoulders.

Wednesday, 10 August 2011

Why Girls Should Earn More Money Than Guys

You know the way there's still inequality in the workplace? Yeah, me neither, I don't know anything about that type of thing seeing as I'm chronically unemployed.  But if they aren't going to make things equal they should totally swing it the other way. Ya wanna know why? It's so much more expensive being a woman. Here's my reasoning:
1. Tampons.
Women need tampons and men don't. Unless they've been doing some weird shit, in which case I don't want to know. Ever. At all. Not one little bit... Ok, maybe an ounce.

2. Toilet Paper.
Us girls use more toilet paper than the average man because we wipe for #1s as well as #2s. This obviously means we spend more on money on it than men. Logic.

3. Hair and Make-Up.
Alright, not every woman needs these things, some people prefer to go 'Au Naturale' and kudos if you' of them, I wish I had your confidence. But for all us woman who are too insecure to go out looking like our naturally beautiful selves, the cost of using make-up and hair products every day makes our monthly expenditure sky rocket.

These things are the only three reasons I can think of right now.

On a totally unrelated note, how painful are periods and childbirth? Not that I actually know about the childbirth thing but still, I've heard it's pretty bad.

Sunday, 7 August 2011

My Biggest Achievement

So I went to the doctor one day to see what was up with the letter they sent to say they found an abnormality when doing an X-ray of my back. So me and my doctor are sitting wondering what was going on there and he felt my chest (get your mind out of the gutter) and I was like "oh hey, could this be anything to do with my super-flexible shoulders?" And Mr. Doctor was all inquisitive so I showed him how I could lick my elbow and he had never heard that humans aren't meant to be able to be able to do that so he was all "hmm" and tried.

And that was the greatest achievement of my life.

Wednesday, 27 July 2011

10 Reasons Why I Love My New Phone

1. The many free photography apps.
I can take photos that look like they were taken with a pinhole camera and then adorn them with cute little icons. My favourite discovery so far is Retro Camera, with 6 'cameras' to choose from.
2. HeyTell.
Need I say more? This nifty little app allows me to send voice messages to friends all over the globe at the push of a button, not to mention it's free to download and use.
3. Social networking.
Because of this baby I'm never more than a finger tip from a quick chat. My internet presence must have increased hundred-fold since I booted this baby up on Monday night.
4. I'm never bored.
I am the proud owner of an android phone, and as such I have the power to download ad many apps as I want, whenever and wherever I want (provided I have signal).
5. I have a camera!
I know I mentioned photography, but I forgot to mention the benefits of actually having a camera for the first time in over a year. No more missing out on great photo opportunities, if I see stomething fun or interesting, I can snap a pic there and then (which would have been handy when I spotted that phallic cloud). I can also document days when I feel particularly pretty.
6. I don't have to put up with my old phone.
Ah, the old Sony Ericsson J100i, with its loud, angry vibrate setting that was reminiscent of a viscous wasp. It had its down sides, but at the end of the day it was a phone with personality. True to form, like a thwarted lover, it stopped acting up and proclaimed "I'll change, I swear!" the minute my new phone arrived.
There's a handy Blogger app for Android that means I can now blog on the go, as soon as the mood hits..
8. Barrr
My favourite free game so far. Run a pirate bar and ensure you get all your pirate customers to their correct station. Unfortunately there are only 10 levels, so not much play time, though one of those levels is called 'Guybrush's Locker', a shout out to the best sea-faring game that ever there was, yarrgh!
9. Flashlight.
How many people can sympathize here? You're on your way to bed, hit the light and BAM! You're navigating the stairs in the dark, wishing you had a bloody torch. It's a situation I find myself in every night, and one I have to repeat if I need to go to the loo in the middle of the night because there's something wrong with the upstairs lights. Now I can significantly lower the risk of death by using my flashlight app. :)
10. It's upped my cool factor.
Yeah, not really, but it's true that I no longer feel that all too familiar wash of shame come over me when removing my phone from my pocket in public.
And let's not forget that you, the readers, will also benefit from my decision to upgrade due to a greater post frequency and more aesthetically pleasing blog. Now now, no need to thank me.

Friday, 22 July 2011


To move or not to move, that is the question.

Originally the answer was pretty easy, Chester was the obvious choice. Life would be easier living with my dad, I'd have a whole lot less to worry about. Plus there was nothing really for me in Belfast, I was homeless, unhappy and had an almost non-existant social life.

But now things are far more complicated. I'm happier here now. Friends have sprung out of the woodwork, some who I thought hated me and others who have fantastic qualities that I was previously blind to. There's still the not-so-little issue of homelessness, but I'm sure I can work something out.

I think right now I'm just waiting for the decider, for something to just come along and choose for me. It's not like there's a wrong decision, by not going to Chester I won't be missing out on some major job opportunity, I can always just go some other time if things don't work out in Belfast. Nothing's set in stone.

Alas, even if I knew I wanted to move to Chester I would have to wait the three or four weeks that it's going to take for my photographic ID to get here. If anything's going to happen to make up my mind, it has quite some time in which to do so, no rush. Chillax.

A whole lot can happen in three weeks.

Wednesday, 20 July 2011

Let's Have Some Fun

This beat is sick
I wanna take a ride on your PENIS.

When the majority of people cancelled for my birthday celebrations, I anticipated a rather fruitless night. Opinion did not change when Abbie, Jonathan and I, upon arriving at Lavery's, were promptly asked for ID. Which none bar Jonathan had. It just didn't bode well.
But all was not as it seemed, after getting knocked back from Lavery's we thought "HEY let's walk down this here road and go to Ma Nelson's." Couldn't have made a better decision. Abbie bumped into her friend Ciaran, my amigo Simon came along and then, summoned by Ciaran, up popped my friend Sean. We were an odd little sixpiece, each widely different from the next, but we got along like a row of terraced houses on fire. Abbie and Sean did some Karaoke, Jonathan dedicated some Rick Astley to me and I danced around like an idiot, becoming rather drunk as the night wore on.

All too soon it was time for us to part ways, with Simon, Abbie, Jonathan and I getting a lift from Simon's lovely mum. Back at Abbie's it was on to the Onion Rings and Just Dance, singing and general craziness that was well documented in videos and pictures on Abbie's camera.

Today arrived with a mild hangover in tow, and a sign on time of 1:15pm, which I was a bit late for. Jonathan accompanied me, in all his Middle Class glory, to the dole office. Yeo. After signing on we were walking along Howard Street and I said to him, I says "We should stop and get coffee at the next non-chain place we find, and directly after the words had left my mouth I was handed a leaflet for The Bakery, Belfast's newest Eatery. Go there, immediately. It's shabby chic heaven, and the coffee's delightful. The baked goods looked pretty good too, but I was unable to partake in the eating of them as I am cursed with Coeliac disease, and Jonathan's just turned into a bloody vegan so I couldn't ask for his opinion.
Then Jonathan bought me a new pair of black skinny jeans, because my current pair developed a rather gaping hole.
Coincidentally, it was July 20th last year that I purchased them. A new tradition, perhaps? Henceforth, July 20th shall be The Day of the New Black Skinny Jeans.

Oh, I forgot to mention, my bum is a wonderland.

Tuesday, 19 July 2011

It Was 20 Years Ago Today

Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play.

Well, actually, no. But it has been twenty years since the day I was born. That's right folks, on this day in 1991 my darling mother was given an emergency ceasarian and baby me was ripped from the womb in a most undignified manner. I was bright green, covered in excrement from defecating myself due to the distress caused by my placenta disintegrating. I had been due on June 22nd, but had obviously found my mother's uterus far too comfy and decided that I would stick around for another month, my foetal adaptation of "Five more minutes," a pattern I have continued throughout my life.

On hearing she had given birth to a healthy baby girl, my mother is said to have spoken the fateful words, "That's nice love, go ask the nurse if I can have a fag." My dad and his mum wept tears of joy at the new, ginger baby girl that had been brought into the world. Unfortunately for them, what they took for gingerness was actually blood caked into my hair.

Legend has it, I was also born with teeth...

Saturday, 16 July 2011

Who Do You Think You Are?

Ah, a delightful summer's day; children are playing, birds are singing and after a week of sunshine, the heavens have opened. And it is on such a day as this that the ice cream man decided to pay a visit (I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream - even when it's pissing down outside). Cue childlike excitement from myself and Abbie followed by the undertaking of a mad dash up the street by her brother Ryan and I (me in my pjs, natch, because "What's the point in getting dressed when I'll not be going anywhere?") to find ourselves some frozen treats.

After ordering, with me getting all over excited and asking for "EVERYTHING. LOTSANDLOTS OF EVERYTHING" on my screwball, Ryan made some hilarious quip about being unable to take me anywhere and wouldn't you look at me in my pjs, and the ice cream man remarked that he felt as though he were in Belfast. Well, my reply was "Well, I am from Belfast ahahah"...
Incoming message for Robyn, you're from Chester, you're a Cestrian, you need to stop confusing yourself and those around you by identifying yourself as a Norn Ironer, so you do.

Seriously though, how weird is it going to be when I *eventually* get to Chester? I won't know who I am anymore. I've spent my entire teenage life in Belfast. The years where I form my identity. For seven years I've been the English girl who talks funny, but essentially I've become a Belfastian who talks funny. How will I be seen by others when I'm in Chester? "That Irish girl who talks funny"?

I'll have to find some Northern Irish friends when I get over there, I'll surely be lost without the camaraderie of taking the mick out of Jim on Corrie and the infestation of "Belfast" folk in Hollyoaks.

I'm sure it will take a couple of confusing months to adjust and not feel totally confused about who I am and where I'm from, but it's not the end of the world. Sure, if it's not my cup of tea I can always move back, so I can.

I ramble too much, so I do.

It's time to end this post, so it is.

Monday, 11 July 2011

Limitless Love

My first time with my new love is not easily forgotten, for I was in fact waiting to see my first love when they revealed themselves to me, and thus was blind to their charms, unaware of all that they had to offer.

I am, of course, talking about my first encounter with Tinpan Orange. They were playing through their set, supporting The Cat Empire. I was too excited at the prospect of seeing the latter, too amazed by the fact that two of the band members were standing right behind me, to notice how pleasant the band performing upon the stage in front of me were.

It actually wasn't until two months later, as I sat bored in my dad's house, that I remembered them and registered the fact that I had enjoyed them somewhat, leading to me looking them up on YouTube. Well, my God, it was like being reunited with a particularly intimate old friend. Everything singer Emily Lubitz spoke of directly mirrored something that I was feeling at that time, but it was formed in a beautifully poetic, melodic way, the likes of which I could never achieve. The music itself felt like a gentle caress, warm and comforting, though at the same time haunting.

To this day, Tinpan Orange still have that same effect on me, warming whilst chilling, curling through my ears and cocooning  my brain with its allure. It is music that is fitting to both sunshine and snow, love and sorrow. This is my soul band, if such a thing can exist, and I definitely recommend if you're a fan of all things pretty (and possibly tea shops, antiques, nude colours and floral prints). It's the kind of music I imagine little fairy people would listen to.

Tinpan Orange - Lovely

I succeeded in embedding, I feel a renewed vigour for life.

Wednesday, 6 July 2011

Recreating Robyn

This here is going to be a post to clarify exactly what my blog's about, and why it has the title Recreating Robyn.

It's because I'm trying to step away from the person I am and become the person I want to be. This means many things, but don't go thinking that I'm changing the essence of Robyn because that's just not true. I like myself, I like what I like, and I'm not going to change that, merely readjust what it means to be me.

Who I want to be is someone I can be happier with. My whole life I've been unsatisfied with who I am, constantly wanting to be someone different. I'd often attempt to mimic the styles of others without success, envious of their beauty and style. I've now realised the problem, by trying to be somebody else I'm not being true to myself. I need to keep being Robyn, just do away with what I don't like and keep what I do, enhancing it and bettering myself in the process. I'm in a position to do this now that I'm sure of what I like and what I dislike.

❤ Who I am ❤
-Collector of unnecessary things (notebooks, recipes, neuroses)
-Incapable of writing
- Unemployed
- Unhealthy
- Lacking hobbies.
- Frustrated/Indecisive
- Dreaming of all the things I could do (if I had a little money...) but doing nothing towards achieving my goals.

❤Who I want to be ❤
- Housewife
- Gardener
- Knowlegeable
- Cook
- Craftswoman
- Confident/Composed/Happy/Well dressed
- Likeable.

I don't want to change who I am, merely rearrange things a little. Yes, I want to look different, but not to become someone I'm not. I'm still wearing an assortment of clothes from past phases, is it any wonder I'm unhappy with my appearance? But in this recreation, appearance is only the aesthetics of the new me, something to better reflect my personality. I  also need to find a way to become someone I like a little better, someone who isn't constantly berating herself for who she is. Less neurotic, less indecisive. Someone who is happy with herself and in control.

Though I do have to say, some of the neuroses I do love. Specially the bit where I can't sit on a warm toilet seat.

Monday, 4 July 2011

The Cat Empire

Hi it's a pleasure to meet ya
Ya look like one incredible creature.  

I'm going to be referencing this band a lot, so I figured I'd make a little post about who they are and why I love them, just so you know for the future. The first problem I'm going to have to get away from is how not to become that kind of fan, you know, the type that's all "OMG U HAVE 2 LISTEN 2 THESE GUYS THEY'RE SO AWESOME AND SEXY AND OMGOMG" even though that's exactly what I'm thinking.

I'm the type of person who goes through major phases with music. One minute I'm listening to hip hop, then I'm on to punk, next EBM and industrial, then it's silly pop. It all just depends on the mood I'm in. But for the past four years The Cat Empire have stood unwavering at the top spot, unperturbed by any other competition coming their way from the rest of the music on my iPod. The main reason for this is their fluctuations from song to song, adding bits and pieces from a multitude of genres. They really do have a song for every mood, whether you're wanting something upbeat or chilled out, reggae rhythms, these guys will have at least one song you'll like (unless you walk around wearing burberry and listening to Cascada). This information has been verified by my many studies, which basically involve me going "OMG U HAVE 2 LISTEN 2 THESE GUYS THEY'RE SO AWESOME AND SEXY AND OMGOMG" and so far, everybody has liked something they've done. 

Wikipedia says "their sound is often described as a fusion of jazz, ska, funk and rock with heavy Latin influences." True, true. But as with many experimental bands, they're incredibly hard to categorise.
They've got two singers with two incredibly distinctive voices, one of whom also does some percussion and the other who plays the trumpet, a guy who plays double bass, a drummer, a keyboardist and a dj. And that's just the full-time mermbers. There is also a small group called Empire Horns who are pretty much permanent fixtures in the band, not to mention the vast amounts of guest musicians, vocalists and dancers they include in their recordings and tours. There's a whole lot to take in.

I mean, come on, look at them, they're so cool! Who wouldn't want to listen to them?

To start you off on your voyage of Cat Empire discovery, I'll point you in the direction of what is commonly thought of as their best-loved song, and probably one that most people warm to when they initially begin listening to them.
Yeah, I would have embedded but the internet is hating on me right now.

Basically, what I'm trying to say here is OMG U HAVE 2 LISTEN 2 THESE GUYS THEY'RE SO AWESOME AND SEXY AND OMGOMG. 

Oh, and did I mention that singer Felix Riebl is incredibly sexy? Trufax, just watch the man dance and you'll know what I'm talking about.

Friday, 1 July 2011

Dear Future Me

Hey, how's it going? Hope life's treating you well. What's it like in 2021, provided the world hasn't ended? Did the robots ever actually take over? Or am I thinking too far ahead with that one?

Anyway, it's 2011, 10 years ago, remember that year? You said it was going to be the year of new beginnings, but I'm starting to think it's the year of waiting. Waiting for decisions to be made, waiting for the chance to move, waiting to know what's to become of you. I'm still 19, waiting to turn 20 and be free from the confines of teenagehood. I bet you're sitting there berating me just like mother would have, "Stop wishing your life away! Enjoy your youth while it lasts!" Well, that's easier said than done when everyone around you is older, giving you less respect because of your age. Don't get me wrong though, I do enjoy my youth to an extent. I love that I'm at the age where I can still dream big, life is so full of possibilities that my head swims when I think of everything I still have to experience and achieve.

I want to be a writer, I love writing, don't you? I hope you haven't given up on your dreams, I hope you've started living them already, I know how depressed you can feel when you're not being productive. How you sometimes can feel as though you're going nowhere, like you are destined to a life of moribundity, but just remember that you aren't. You can do anything, as long as you don't sit around on your arse just waiting for it to happen to you. Just start small, that's what I'm doing right now. I'm starting a blog so that I can get all those big thoughts out of my head, the ones that make me feel as though I'm drowning, like my head is full of fog. It's a heavy burden to bear, but you know what they say, a problem shared is a problem halved. So if even one person reads my blog then they're helping to unburden me.

So right now I'm homeless, and it's kinda tough, but I do have a lot to be grateful for. There's the lovely people who have let me stay with them, Mike, Karen, Dominic, Christina, Abbie and her mother and brother. These people are wonderful, and without them I don't know where I'd be right now. Probably dissolving into a pool of melancholy, rotting in some hostel. Where are you living? Big, small, grand or humble, I bet I'd love it. I bet it's full of bright colours and shiny baubles, and if it's not then what on Earth happened? You used to love all things tacky and gaudy! Remember your roots, girl!

Are you married? Is he handsome? Although I suppose it doesn't have to be a man, you could be married to a woman. Anything could happen in the space of ten years. But love is love, so take it where you find it (unless that place is a bit illegal) and nurture and cherish it, no matter who you find yourself sharing it with. Please just be happy, wherever you are and whoever it is you're with. Don't let anything get you down. Retain your optimism, it's something I've always admired about you. Please stop being so god damn unmotivated though, it's always bugged me. This is your life, you are in charge of what happens to you (unless the robots have taken over).

Whatever happens, always remember that I love you. To me you symbolise everything that can be. To you I suppose I symbolise everything that has been.

Good luck.

p.s. Today is day #1 of your reinvention, I hope it goes in your favour.